Twelve Days of Christmas
by katierosefun
Summary: Twelve mini-stories with the length of a drabble or a one-shot leading up to Christmas. Lots of cuddling, mistletoe kisses, snowstorms, ice-skating…everyone is in the holiday spirit in Camelot! [Nothing in this story will be slash – bromance and fluff will be abundant. To be updated daily. Twelfth chapter - This was the most cheerful and peaceful Christmas.]
1. Let it Snow

**Hello, Merlin fandom! *waves hand* It's been a while since I actually posted a story...but to get into the Christmas spirit, I decided to release this thing, because I'm festive like that. XD **

**Enjoy! **

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><p><em>Let it Snow <em>

Merlin loved the snow. He loved it as a little boy, even though most of the villagers weren't quite fond of the cold weather. Most of the people he knew _hated _going out in the snow because it'd mean that their clothes would get wet and that everyone would be prone to illness. But Merlin wasn't exactly normal in the village – and he loved playing in the snow. Back in Ealdor, he'd often get into trouble for running out into the snow without permission from his mother.

And it seemed that even now, at the age of twenty-one, Merlin hadn't broken the habit of running out whenever snow was on the ground.

In fact, everything temporarily flew out of Merlin's head when he caught sight of the white fluffiness atop the ground. He forgot about his conversations with the Great Dragon, forgot about the fact that he was in Camelot, forgot about the fact that Gaius would probably be annoyed with him, forgot that he had to report to Arthur for the morning…the snow had that sort of effect on him.

So the very minute he slid out of bed, Merlin was scrambling to go outside. He shoved on his boots, his jacket, his ever-present neckerchief, basically all his warm things – and rushed out of the room without so much of a "good morning" to Gaius. (Well, actually, Merlin _did _greet him, but the poor physician could only hear a mess of words that roughly translated into, "_there's snow there's snow there's snow hello Gaius there's snow there's snow there's snow!_")

And moments later, the raven-haired manservant sprinted full-speed through the courtyard, a wide smile alight on his face. He looked up at the sky and let out a loud, happy laugh, not even caring for a single moment that there might be people stopping to stare at him. (Some people were smiling with him; others were rolling their eyes and muttering something about children.)

Content, Merlin allowed himself to fall back in the snow, which happened to be deep and soft enough for him to be in without hurting himself. He kicked up his legs for a few minutes and, after watching the snow dissolve into little clouds of white particles, sat up and started to throw snow in the air. With great delight, Merlin watched as a cold wind swept up and brushed the soft white away.

He did this action for a few more minutes until a familiar male voice called, "Do you intend on staying out there?"

Merlin's head whipped around to see Arthur Pendragon leaning against the inner columns outside of the courtyard, and much like Merlin, he was dressed in head-to-toe with warmer articles of clothing. (He must have gotten a different servant to help him get dressed – Merlin knew too well that Arthur couldn't dress himself to save his life.) "Good morning, sire!" Merlin called as cheerfully as he could; only now remembering that he was to tend to Arthur before.

"Must be, because I don't think I've ever seen you so excited for something," Arthur replied dryly, not budging from his position near the column. Merlin grinned and pointed at the space around him. "It snowed last night!" he said happily.

"Thank you for stating the obvious, _Mer_lin – I _know _it snowed last night."

Giving Arthur an incredulous stare, Merlin's arms flopped back by his sides. "Can't you just _enjoy _this?" he asked dubiously. He cupped the snow in his hands and threw them up in the air. "Just _look _at it!" Excited, he looked back at Arthur. "_Tell _me you don't find it interesting. Or pretty."

Arthur puffed out a breath. "I _would _tell you that I don't find it _particularly_ interesting, though then I'd have to remember that I'm talking to _you._" He said, shaking his head. Unwilling to let his good mood falter, Merlin shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the snow. _Fine_, he thought. _Arthur might not like the snow, but I do and I'm not going to let him spoil that. _

It hadn't even passed a full minute before Merlin heard a great, heavy sigh from behind him. The sigh was followed by a series of _ooph-phooph _sounds of boots sinking into the soft snow. With another smile, Merlin turned to find that Arthur was standing right behind him. The bored, unimpressed expression had shifted to a bit more annoyed – or perhaps interested look. A little bit of both, to be honest.

"I knew you couldn't resist," Merlin said delightfully, picking up two mounds of snow. He threw them up in the air, letting it shower over Arthur and him. He flicked another glance at Arthur, and to his pleasure realized that the look of annoyance was beginning to melt off his face.

"Yes, well, you'd probably end up catching your death if you stay out here the entire time," Arthur muttered after a few minutes of silence. He looked up and snorted, lifting his hand to brush something off Merlin's head. When Merlin inched back, Arthur held up his glove, which held little dusty prints of snow, undoubtedly collected from Merlin's hair. "See?"

The younger man smiled sheepishly and then said, "Glad to know you care – worried about catching my death – our relationship must _really _be progressing."

Arthur's gloved hand lowered so he could wipe the snow off his trousers. "Don't get so full of yourself, _Mer_lin," he said. "It'd be dreadful to go through the progress of finding another manservant."

With that, Arthur spun around and started to trudge back out of the courtyard. Merlin stared after him, shook his head, and rolled his eyes. "Prat," he murmured softly from under his breath and grabbed at a few more lumps of snow before Arthur shouted, "Come on, Merlin!"

"Right behind you, sire!" Merlin shouted back and tucking the little ball of snow from behind his back, he started to make his way after Arthur.

The prince was in for a little surprise.

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><p><strong>AN - I won't be taking requests because I had all of the chapters written up before posting this. Sorry! I'll also be updating this story daily - and if I happen to miss a daily update, then I'll probably make it up by posting two chapters in one day. (But hopefully, I'll be able to find two minutes to update this story everyday. -.-") **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not! **


	2. Blankets

**Hello again! Back with another chapter - happy reading! **

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><p><em>Blankets<em>

"It's _just _like you to get sick, Merlin," Arthur grumbled as Merlin sniffled from underneath the thin covers of his bed. "And we weren't even out for _that _long!" Sadly, Merlin couldn't even bring himself to reply or shoot back some sort of snarky comment – he was shivering too hard. After a few minutes of trembling in his bed, Merlin managed to say, "What's – the point – in you coming here – if you're just – going to complain – you – prat?" (Merlin's teeth kept chattering in between words.)

The look that came next on Arthur's face was something that Merlin hadn't really seen before – not directed at _him_, at least. For a second, Merlin was almost sure that he saw _worry _flash across Arthur's face. However, it must have been imagination (or he must have been _very _sick,) because in the next moment, Arthur was looking as annoyed as ever. "I've said it before, haven't I? I need _someone _to talk to or I might go out of my mind." He said haughtily.

"Go talk to – Morgana, then," Merlin stammered, rolling over on his side so his face would be buried in the pillow. He heard Arthur groan and reply, "Talk to Morgana _now? _I'd rather get thrown in the stocks – she's _furious _with me." At those words, Merlin couldn't help but to chuckle weakly. The thought of Arthur getting thrown in the stocks could cheer any person.

But then another harsh coughing fit took over Merlin's body and he was forced to lean over the bed, just in case he was to vomit over the sheets. (That had happened before – and besides, one couldn't ever be too careful.) Gasping for breath, Merlin brought his head up a few inches off the floor and tried to push himself back up.

However, he found that he didn't need to – because a second later, a warm arm was slinging itself around Merlin's torso (with surprising gentleness) and bringing him into the bed. Merlin let out another feeble cough before looking up at Arthur, who was now peering down at him with concerned eyes. (So it _wasn't _Merlin's imagination the first time.)

"You know, you didn't have to prove how sick you were by hacking up your lungs," Arthur said, his eyebrows lifting to his hairline. Merlin smiled feebly up at Arthur and replied hoarsely, "If only."

Rolling his eyes, Arthur stood up. "Next time, don't think about running into an icy _pond _to do something heroic, Merlin," he muttered. "It'll only result in stabbing you in the back like this."

It took another few minutes for Merlin to reply – the tremors had taken over his body yet _again_. Forcing himself to bite down on the inside of his cheek from shivering any harder, Merlin replied, "You're welcome, if that was a thank you."

Arthur snorted. "Hardly," he shot back and casting another sidelong glance at the younger man, shook his head. "Will you _stop wobbling _around like that? My muscles are hurting just from _looking _at you!" Gritting his teeth, Merlin replied, "Can't – help – it." He wrapped his arms around himself, even though it wasn't much use. "Too – cold."

"_How? _You're sweating," Arthur replied dubiously. And it _was _true – even now, beads of sweat were sliding down the side of Merlin's face, though he couldn't quite feel it. Once realizing that Merlin wasn't going to respond to Arthur's remark right away, he lifted his hands in surrender. "You know what? Forget it – I'll be back in a minute."

Just before Arthur disappeared from the room, he looked back at Merlin. "You can survive for one minute without me, yes?"

Merlin managed a shaky shrug, to which Arthur sighed. "Fine – _one minute. _I better not find you…convulsing on the floor or something like that, because if you do, I'll make _sure _you won't ever hear the end of it." Obviously satisfied with his choice of words, Arthur ducked out from the room.

Merlin shook his head to himself. He had been told by Gaius and Guinevere and a handful of other people that Arthur cared about him – something about what he does or says about Merlin behind his back…though now, Merlin could only think that the prat had a funny way of showing his care.

But then a few minutes later, Arthur returned, his arms laden with blankets thicker than the cover that was thrown over Merlin's bed. The prince made his way to Merlin and without so much of an explanation, dumped the blankets on top of the mattress. Merlin made a small squeaking sound in surprise and with widening eyes, asked, "What's this?"

Arthur was slow to respond. He was busy spreading the blankets out over Merlin. Once completing the process,(and making sure that only Merlin's head would be poking out from the great mound of blankets,) the blond crossed his arms and said, "You said you were too cold – so I got you something that might keep you warm."

Merlin blinked. "But –"

"That threadbare thing that you were calling your _blanket _wasn't going to help you, now, was it?" Arthur interrupted, raising his eyes to the ceiling. He was deliberately avoiding Merlin's gaze now. "And don't even bother telling me that it's not necessary – I can't _stand _having George as a servant for another day." Not bothering to even take a breath, the prince added, "And the blankets came out of the extra bunch of fresh laundry, so don't even think about telling me how someone's missing a bunch of blankets tonight."

"_Arthur_," Merlin finally said, staring pointedly at the blond.

"_What?_" Arthur asked, mimicking Merlin's tone.

Merlin smiled and replied quietly, "Just wanted to say thank you, prat."

It was Arthur's turn to look bewildered. After a few beats of silence, the expression faded to be replaced by one of a shy kind of…almost _warmth_. Shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, Arthur smiled and said, "You're welcome, if that was your way of thanking me."

Merlin could roll his eyes and laugh quietly as the prince turned to walk out of the bedroom.

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><p><strong>AN - Please don't be a Grinch; review instead! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not. **


	3. Mistletoe

**I would love to rant about my personal life, but I'm going to throw on a Santa hat and try to get good, happy, holiday vibes. **

**Happy reading! **

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><p><em>Mistletoe<em>

Arthur Pendragon blamed Gwaine wholeheartedly for setting up such a cruel experiment...or prank…or _whatever_ Gwaine wanted to call it. The king always believed that kissing was something that was _not _supposed to be done in public (unless it was from a wedding) and definitely not to be done when most of the people around him were pranksters such as Gwaine himself. Or Merlin, to be honest – Arthur had the funny feeling that his manservant was _somehow _involved in this little conspiracy, judging by the way he kept looking out the window. The corners of Merlin's lips kept twitching up, and the inside of his cheek was hollowed inwards, giving Arthur the sense that he was biting it with his teeth.

"You're underneath the mistletoe, princess!" Gwaine crowed from his window seat. He lifted his tankard – probably mead, maybe eggnog…definitely something that'll make Gwaine drunk soon – and shouted, "And you're with the perfect lady to kiss!"

Arthur turned to look at his wife, who was shaking her head in an exasperated manner, though the faint blush in her cheeks and occasional giggles escaping her lips told him that she found this just as humorous as the knight. When Gwaine started to making loud, squelching noises (which were supposed to imitate kissing sounds), Arthur could only toss a glare in his direction.

"Oh, come _on!_" Gwaine said with a grin. "I could have been meaner – I could have made you kiss Merlin." At that, both Arthur and Merlin's nose wrinkled in distaste. "Had too much to drink there, Gwaine?" was Merlin's only remark, which brought a burst of laughter from the man. "Aw, come on – can't be too bad!" Gwaine guffawed. He planted a mockingly thoughtful expression on his face whilst murmuring, "Or I could have paired you up with Percival…or Leon…_oh-ho-ho, that _would have been a sight!"

"Definitely too much to drink," Guinevere agreed, though she didn't seem to be insulted by Gwaine's words. If anything, she only seemed to find them even more amusing. Arthur supposed he was grateful for that – it was nice to see that Guinevere was enjoying herself, even _if _the concept of Gwaine trying to pair Arthur up with different people to kiss was a _bit _ridiculous.

"Ah, and lemme tell you a little thing about Merlin over there," Gwaine said, turning to the younger man. He grinned impishly and said, "He tied up the mistletoe for me, did you know that? I couldn't find the right places, but he said that he knew where you two would probably stand tonight and…" He pointed up at the little thing of mistletoe tied up on the ceiling. "Look at that!" he chuckled and lifting his tankard to his lips, added, "The only question is that I don't know how the hell it got up there…"

"Stood on a chair," Merlin said instantly when Arthur's eyes narrowed over to him. "I _knew _you had something to do with this!" the king hollered accusingly. The raven-haired man only lifted his hands. "Sorry," Merlin said, though he didn't sound or look apologetic at all.

_Figured._

Leaning back lazily against the wall, Merlin nodded up at the mistletoe. "But it looks like you better do _something_, because Gwaine's going to do something drastic if you don't." He hesitated. "And I'd rather _not _see it, thank you very much – or be _caught _in it." At the mention of his name, Gwaine set off with another series of 'kissing' sounds. "Pucker up, Arthur," he said, his voice dripping with false sweetness.

Arthur held his glare at Gwaine and Merlin for another full minute – but both seemed too gleeful about the possible outcome to really care. _God_, those two were going to get it – and Arthur would make sure of that one day. But for now, he gave a sigh of defeat and turned to Guinevere.

"So much for privacy," he mumbled wistfully. Guinevere simply smiled in response. "I think we've been private for a while," she replied lightly. She looked over Arthur's shoulder, and the king knew that she was having an exchange of cheerful looks at Gwaine and Merlin. "And I think the two only want to have a confirmation on what might actually be going on when they're not watching," she continued, happy twinkles of joy present in her eyes.

And Arthur gave in to those simple words. Sparing only a brief glance over his shoulder at Merlin and Gwaine, he bent down and planted a soft, light kiss over his wife's lips. He heard his friends clapping and whooping childishly from the other side of the room, but he was a bit…occupied to really do much except flap an uncaring hand in their direction. (This only brought a round of hearty laughter and sniggers.)

When Arthur separated himself from Guinevere, (who had smiled the entire time,) he turned with crossed arms and said, "I would watch the ceilings for any mistletoe from now on."

Gwaine only winked at Arthur. "I look forward to it," he said happily. He propped up his legs on Merlin's lap (who rolled his eyes in annoyance but didn't bother pushing Gwaine's legs off,) and continued, "There's a pretty maidservant I've been watching every few days – think her name's Camilla or Claudette, but d'you think you can pair me up with her?"

Guinevere lifted her eyebrows. "Is her name really Camilla or Claudette?" she asked.

Gwaine shook his head, his optimistic expression never wavering from his face. "Nah. She looks like one, though," he said. (Arthur's wife giggled at that – Guinevere had once shared a story about how when she first met Gwaine, he would try to come up with royal-sounding names for her. It seemed that habits could never change for Gwaine…) He snapped his fingers at Arthur. "She's got this really pretty _crown _of red hair that she always ties up in a braid and these really, really wide, green eyes and…"

Arthur could only shake his head tiredly as Gwaine continued to ramble on about the beauty of this random maidservant.

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><p><strong>AN - Um...so...please review? Please? I don't want to delete this story, doods! I want to keep it up! (I almost always delete stories when I think it's a waste of time, because I'm very...quick to withdraw from what I think are bad ideas.) So if you'd like to prove me wrong, go for it! *Merlin puppy eyes* Review! Constructive criticism is tolerated, but flames are not. **


	4. Thin Ice

**Real life stinks. That is all I have to say. Hopefully, everyone else is having a nice day. And if not, here's a comfort blanket and hot chocolate - AND A HUG! *chibi hugs* **

**Happy reading! **

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><p><em>Thin Ice <em>

It was _probably _a bad idea to venture out on a pond of ice.

But Gwaine was an adventurous man, and he wanted to try it out. Besides, he had a friend looking after him in case he would fall through the ice, so he wasn't very worried about the possible consequences of his actions. Speaking of his friend…

"Are you _sure _this is a good idea?" Merlin was asking, narrowing his eyes at the vast space of frozen-over water. A doubtful look flashed across his face – always _was _a smart lad, that Merlin, despite what Arthur usually said about him – and said, "Doesn't look so safe to me."

Actually, forget what Gwaine said – he supposed anyone with half a brain could figure out that going out on an iced-over pond wasn't the best idea in the world. Ah, well – Merlin was still intelligent enough for Gwaine.

"'Course it's not a good idea," Gwaine replied cheerfully, already tapping the ice lightly with his boot to test how long it would hold his weight. "_I _came up with it." He heard Merlin snort from behind him – that was a good sign – though in the next second, he said, "We're some distance away from Camelot…if you _were _to fall through the ice, we'd have to walk some to get back." After another moment of silence, Merlin said, "And to be honest, I don't think I want to explain to anyone how I _allowed_ you to step out on ice _by yourself_."

"Nonsense!" Gwaine said, slapping his hands together. "I'm a fast runner – I'll be back when the first signs of ice breakage come."

When the knight turned around, Merlin was wearing the same uneasy expression on his face, though it looked a bit more intense than before. "Still don't think this is the best plan you've come up with, Gwaine…" the younger man murmured warningly. "We should probably check for other frozen ponds if you _really _just want to walk around ice."

"And what fun will _that _bring?" Gwaine asked incredulously. He pointed out at the pond. "No, this seems more appealing to me."

Not bothering to wait for any other remarks from Merlin, Gwaine planted his other foot on the ice. When it didn't break right away, Gwaine managed to push himself off. To his relief, he didn't fall down as quickly as he expected. (Even though he desperately wanted to try this little experience, he wasn't too fond of being drenched with ice water…)

And perhaps it was just his imagination, but Gwaine was sure he heard Merlin murmur something under his breath when he took another step out on the pond. It was odd – it didn't really sound like him, nor did it really sound like the English he was used to hearing, though when he looked back, Merlin's mouth was closed.

Before Gwaine could think any more on the possible source of those noises, a burst of wind ripped past him, temporarily throwing him off balance. Crying out in surprise, Gwaine fell back against the ice. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the blow of water to wallop over him, only…

It never came.

And then Gwaine heard something gliding across the ice. When the knight opened both of his eyes, he found himself looking up at Merlin, who looked something of a mix of surprise and relief to find that the ice was actually sturdy enough to hold the two of them.

"How'd you get here?" Gwaine asked, gingerly sitting himself up. "I thought you said that this was a bad idea."

Merlin shrugged his shoulders, and the look of surprise and relief melted off his face. Gwaine couldn't quite read the next expression on his face, which he found himself doing most of these days. There was just something about the Merlin fellow that always bewildered Gwaine – the way things seemed to miraculously happen to him, like escaping a swinging sword or being able to navigate through the woods…or even now, how he was able to step on the ice so suddenly, even though Gwaine hadn't fallen through.

"The ice is thicker than I thought," Merlin replied simply and offered a hand. Gwaine stared. "I'd probably cause you to fall over," he mused aloud. "And then you'd fall over and then we'd _definitely _go through."

"Don't think so," Merlin said. He reached his hand a bit further, the peculiar expression still on his face. "C'mon."

After another moment, Gwaine sighed and with a halfhearted lift of his shoulders, took Merlin's hand and pushed himself up. "Well," he said once the two were both standing properly on the ice. "That was unexpected." He turned and placed a hand over his eyes to make out the rest of the pond.

"How much further do you think we'll be able to venture with this ice?"

Merlin stared up at Gwaine. "Just a second ago, you were telling me how it was surprising to find that the ice was holding us and now you want to take even _more _risks?" he asked, stunned. Gwaine grinned and gave the back of Merlin's shoulder a light thump.

"You're acting like you've never met me before," the knight chuckled. He pointed to another spot on the pond. "Onwards, Merlin!"

To Gwaine's pleasant surprise, the ice _did _hold for much longer than he had expected. He took this to his full advantage – he glided around the ice, occasionally tripping himself just to see what might possibly happen. Each time he did so, Merlin held his breath. And each time Gwaine stood up without a single mark, the younger man would let out a quiet sigh and shake his head, a smile on his face.

Finally, when Gwaine couldn't feel his face or his arms anymore, he puffed out a sigh and said, "We should probably get going."

Merlin appeared to be relieved by those words. With that settled, the two turned and started sliding across the ice. However, the second Gwaine had reached the snowbank outside of the pond; he heard a loud splash of water and an even louder shout of surprise.

Gwaine spun around, eyes wide.

"_Merlin!" _

It took a few moments of sputtering and splashing, but in the end, Gwaine was able to drag Merlin out of the undoubtedly frigid water. The knight quickly undid his cape and wrapped it around his friend, saying, "That's got to be the worst luck _ever_."

"Mm-hm," was Merlin's response.

Gwaine grimaced and pointed in the direction of the castle. "Let's go," he said. He cast a guilty look at Merlin and cringed. "That is, before you freeze."

Merlin's head bobbed up and down shakily. "Mm-hm," he repeated.

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><p><strong>AN - Because we all know that Merlin would use his magic to help out his friends and then forget about himself in the process. Heh. I don't think I've actually written a proper Merlin-and-Gwaine story before, so this was a first. (With the exception of yesterday.) **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is tolerated, but flames are not! (And thank you for proving me wrong yesterday - it brought a big smile on my face. :') Any chance you lot can prove me wrong again...? *shy smile - hides behind a Merlin*)**


	5. Lights

**Did anyone else see Colin Morgan in The Fall? I personally didn't watch it - I don't have BBCThree (or whatever it is) over here, but my Tumblr dash WAS FILLED WITH PICTURES OF HIM FROM THE LATEST EPISODE AND I JUST - *screams* COLIN MORGAN, IT IS NOT OKAY FOR YOU TO GIVE ME A BIGGER HEART ATTACK THAN USUAL WHILE I'M TRYING TO WRITE A HISTORY PAPER. IT. IS. NOT. OKAY. (Just. Him. In. Bed. No. Shirt. Just. RIP ME, I DIED.) **

***fangirls some more* **

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><p><em>Lights <em>

Freya was aware of the gifts that Merlin would give her each and every winter; even if she couldn't really tell him from the place she was in. But she was knew what he would do throughout the days he would visit her, especially in times of winter. It was something that she looked forward to each year – and she intended on telling him that one day, _somehow_.

So Freya was watching with a wide smile and sad eyes as Merlin sat at the shore of the frozen lake. His hair was shorter than the last time she had seen him – it was probably cut by someone. He wasn't quite as skinny as before, either, which Freya observed with gladness – she was beginning to think that he was looking too thin.

Merlin brought his hands together and Freya could only see him mouth a few soft words before reopening his hands to reveal a single rose. Freya bit down on her lower lip, struggling the gathering of warm tears at her eyes. Bringing in a quick breath, Merlin set the rose down and with another set of whispers, little, small flames of light flickered at his fingertips.

Freya's breath caught in her throat – this was something that she was always glad to see hadn't changed, despite the amount of time that had passed.

"Hello, Freya," she heard Merlin say quietly. "Don't know if you can hear me – you probably can – but…" He pushed the rose down, allowing the little flames to bob up and down in the cold air. As always, Freya was surprised that they didn't sputter out right away.

"My lady," he said, a brave smile flickering over his face. He bowed his head and picked the rose up again, extending it to the frozen lake. With a flash of gold, a small part of the ice melted – revealing a minuscule bit of water. Gently, carefully, _lovingly, _Merlin dropped the rose into the water. He lowered the flames in as well; only still, they didn't go out.

_Magic, _Freya marveled, and reached up her hands as the rose and lights sank down to her. She plucked the rose – which was perfectly dry – and watched the flames tenderly. They seemed to wave at Freya with a gentle sort of happiness, almost like another reassurance that her existence had not gone unnoticed.

But Freya knew a bit better than that. Unless she was able to provide direct communication with Merlin, there really wasn't any way for him to know that she was watching.

However, Freya held the rose to her chest and with shining eyes, whispered, "Thank you, Merlin. Thank you for your gifts."

Freya wasn't just talking about the lights and rose when she mentioned the gifts.

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><p><strong>AN - Drabble, obviously. Um, I'm not a hardcore shipper of Freylin (don't kill me!), mainly because I felt like it was a bit...I dunno...forced? Rushed? Still a better love story than _Twilight_, though. *wink* I like writing about them once in a while, though - mostly just quick, short-and-sweet stuff like this. **

**Reviews are always nice! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not. **


	6. Sleep

**Alright, here's an honest answer - it took me this long for me to actually update because I'm watching ****_I Am Legend _****with my family right now. Yup - the depressing zombie movie with a few jump scares and some Will Smith action. Probably not the scariest zombie movie out there, but it's pretty sad. (I've watched it before.) **

**Anyways. Happy reading! **

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><p><em>Sleep<em>

It was late and Merlin was finding it hard to keep his eyes open. The atmosphere of Arthur's chambers he was in wasn't really being much help, either. Snow was drifting gently out the window, occasionally clinging to the window or slipping down the glass. It was fairly dim in the room as well, with only the flames from the fireplace as a source of light. There wasn't anyone else in the room, too – it was just Merlin, setting up Arthur's bed and depositing his clothes in the correct dressers and cabinets.

Merlin was sorely tempted to fall into a chair – or even to the ground – and sleep. His muscles were heavy with tiredness and his eyes kept fluttering to a close every so often. He supposed it wasn't right for him to be so quick to try to doze off – but he had spent the majority of the day doing nothing but run around the castle and serve Arthur and a few other nobles. Everyone was in a rush to get to the warmest castle as possible, what with the cold weather approaching and all. Now, he was trying to clean and mend a ridiculously large amount of clothing. The poor warlock barely had time to breathe these days, let alone relax.

A loud pop from the fireplace startled Merlin back to work. He rubbed his eyes with a few brushes from his hands and picked up the cloths again. He tried to mend one particularly gaping hole in a jacket, but couldn't quite concentrate on actually filling it. The flames were creating shadows, causing Merlin to not make out the actual hole.

Or maybe it was because he was too tired.

At this point, the young warlock couldn't tell what the real reason was.

"Well, _that _was a proper mess," Arthur Pendragon declared as he slammed through the doors. Merlin flinched, almost dropping the cloths. The prince did not take any notice as the younger man bent down to reach for items. Throwing his jacket carelessly on his bed, Arthur made his way to the window and added, "I'm telling you, Merlin, it was _awful_. Lord Bayard was giving another one of his boring speeches, and Lady Fable was tricked into drinking too much by her husband again."

Merlin can only utter a weak laugh at the tales. However, he was already dreading what that would mean – he, along with any other manservant or maid, would probably be working double time tomorrow. He could already feel his body sink at the weight of whatever loads he'd have to carry tomorrow.

"And I only _just _got away," Arthur finished, turning to Merlin with a smirk. "Although, I left Morgana in the hands of the rest of them all." He placed a hand under his chin, saying, "I suppose I should go back and rescue her, don't you think?" Merlin shrugged his shoulders – he couldn't bring himself to give a full answer. At that, the blond flapped his hand at the warlock. "No, she'll be fine," he concluded. "Besides, I think she can do with some socializing once in a while, even if it _is _with half-drunk lords and ladies."

Merlin let out a soft snort, going back to the clothes. For a few minutes, all was quiet – at least, that's what the young man thought. The rest of Arthur's words were slowly blurring and fading into one, long slur; the crackle of the fire melded into the steady hum of noise from the prince.

xXx

"Am I right, Merlin?" Arthur asked at last, tapping his fingernail against the window. However, he was only greeted with silence. He frowned, listening hard for some form of response. "Merlin?" Arthur called again and turned around to face his manservant. "Merlin…" His voice drifted as he caught sight of the younger man.

Merlin was slumped over his chair, hands folded in his lap and a jacket placed neatly over his lap. His head was tilted forward, his chin pressed lightly against his chest. Merlin's eyes were closed, too, and a soft, sleepy breath escaped his lips.

He was, in other words, very much asleep.

Arthur sighed. "Always knew you could listen, Merlin," he grumbled, but there wasn't any resentment in his tone. He made his way over to the chair and carefully, gently pushed Merlin into a standing position. At the sudden movement, Merlin stirred in his sleep, lightly pushing Arthur away. The prince's lips twitched into a small smile. "Come on," he murmured. "I'm going to get you back to your chambers."

And so, moving as quietly as he could to not disturb Merlin, Arthur started to half-drag/half-carry the younger man to a better destination to hopefully rest.

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><p><strong>AN - Yup. Pretty depressed by this film right now. Gosh darn it. **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not. **


	7. Borrowing a Sled

**So...I decided to put my Youtube Music Playlist on shuffle and of course, the first song that plays is ****_Medicine _****by Daughter and now I'm getting ****_all _****the feels. Gah. **

**Happy reading! **

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><p><em>Borrowing a Sled <em>

Little Morgana was bored. She needed some form of entertainment – something to get herself excited because frankly, staying in the castle and lounging around in her room all day did _not _sound appealing to her. At all. "Oh, but be a proper lady!" one of Morgana's tutors had told her. "You don't _need _'proper excitement'. You have everything you need _here_."

That was the stupidest thing Morgana had ever heard. She had everything she needed _here? _In this castle? In Camelot? Who would ever say that to a child?

"I'm bored," Morgana announced, walking into Arthur Pendragon's chambers. The young boy – only ten years of age, like Morgana herself – was fingering a short knife on his bed. At Morgana's sudden arrival, he flinched and dropped the knife to the floor. "Don't barge in like that!" Arthur immediately protested, looking over at the girl.

"Oh, playing soldier now, are we?" Morgana scoffed. She bent down and before the prince could do anything, she held up the knife in her hands. A small grin already spreading across her face, she held it out some distance away from herself – and in the fiercest voice she could manage, shouted to Arthur, "Beg for mercy!"

"Don't be silly, Morgana," Arthur scowled, trying to take back his knife. However, Morgana ducked out of the way and jumped on the bed. "Beg for mercy, Arthur!" she shrieked, bouncing lightly on her toes. When Arthur didn't oblige, Morgana pouted. "Go on," she whined. "For me?"

"You're psychotic," Arthur snapped. "Girls aren't supposed to make _men _beg for mercy."

Morgana gave a long, disappointed sigh and flopped down on the bed, casually throwing the knife back to the floor. "Yes, well, who ever said _you _were a man?" she grumbled. She watched Arthur out of the corner of his eye as he swooped down to pick up the small weapon. After a single moment, the prince retorted, "I'll have you know that Father said that I'm going to be a _great _man when I'm older." There was a swift, slashing movement through the air, followed by Arthur adding, "I'm going to be _just _like him and the knights! I'll be the best warrior Camelot has ever known!"

Morgana snorted, propping herself up on her elbows to watch the blond. He looked ridiculous, to be honest, poking at empty space with such a short blade. "Not if I beat that position first," Morgana said loftily. Arthur slowly lowered his arm and turned to glare at the girl. "What _are _you here for, Morgana?" he asked grouchily. "Because so far, you've done nothing except whine and bother me since you walked in."

"Since when? Since I walked into this castle, or since I walked into this room?" Morgana countered, but all the same leapt off the bed.

"Both," Arthur replied sourly.

"Hm," Morgana tossed a handful of hair behind her shoulder. "That's what I like to hear."

Arthur rolled his eyes and repeated, "What _are _you here for, Morgana?"

"I need some entertainment," Morgana responded. She ventured around Arthur's chambers, observing everything – most of his belongings had been tucked away by man and maidservants, _that _Morgana knew, but there really _had _to be something that could provide her _some _amusement. It wasn't until Morgana caught sight of a shield hanging on the wall did the young girl's head bloomed with an idea.

"Can I use your shield?" Morgana asked suddenly, whirling around to face Arthur. The prince frowned. "Whatever for?" he asked slowly. He looked up at the shield, and then back at Morgana. The girl gave him an innocent-enough smile, though Arthur wasn't fooled by it.

"Are you going to break it? And then blame it on me? Because Morgana, I'm _very _tired of cleaning up after you," Arthur said warily. Morgana folded her arms over her chest, retorting, "_You_ clean up _my _messes? _Please_." She turned on her heel and without waiting for Arthur to give his consent, plucked the shield off the wall.

"_Morgana!_" Arthur protested, but the girl was already making her way out the door. "What are you going to _do_?"

Morgana stooped short in her tracks and huffing out an exasperated sigh, turned and asked, "Are you _really _going to keep asking me that? Or would you rather actually _find out_?"

Arthur's face fell. "You're going to get us into trouble," he said uncertainly. Morgana stomped her foot. "Then _leave it be!_" she replied. "If you're _really _scared of getting into trouble, then go back to your chambers and keep pretending to be some savior." After those words were uttered, Morgana knew that she had reeled Arthur in – the prince pressed his lips together in frustration and then, he said, "_Fine!_ I'm coming! But remember, if Father asks us _what _we were thinking when we did…whatever we're going to do, it's going to be _your _fault! Not mine!"

Morgana smiled sweetly. "Always knew I could count on you, dear," she said, and started down the corridor. "Now, come on!"

Arthur was true to his word – a few minutes later, the two children were mounted on the shield at the top of the stairs. A few servants and nobles shot confused, bewildered looks at them, but Morgana paid them no mind. They didn't know what they were going to miss out on.

"Are you _sure _this is a good idea?" Arthur asked, staring down at the bottom of the stairs. "If we –"

"Oh, _do _stop talking, Arthur," Morgana interrupted. She gripped the edges of the shield and flashing a grin at the blond, asked, "Are you ready?"

"Would you even c – aaaaah!"

Equally loud shrieks ripped out of Morgana and Arthur's mouths as they plummeted down the stairs. Everyone instantly dove out of the way, all screaming and crying out as the children dove past them. "Morgana!" Arthur hollered over the racket, clinging onto the shield, "We're going to crash into something!"

"No, we're not!" Morgana shouted back. "And if we are, it'll be out –"

Again, they were all interrupted. The shield took a sudden turn out the hallway – and into the courtyard. The ground was covered thickly with snow, causing the two to come to an abrupt stop. At that, both Morgana and Arthur tumbled off the shield, earning themselves faces of the white fluff.

Exhilarated, Morgana pushed herself up and shouted, "That was amazing!" She rolled over to Arthur, who, like her, was sitting up in the snow. He looked dazed, if not a bit confused as to how they were suddenly outside, but otherwise unharmed. "Come on, come on!" the young girl said excitedly, already yanking Arthur to his feet. "Let's do that again!"

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><p><strong>AN - Because little Morgana and Arthur doing all sorts of crazy things as children totally appeals to me. XD **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not. **


	8. First Christmas

**Drabble-length chapter for this one. Happy reading! **

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><p><em>First Christmas <em>

Merlin stared at Arthur, his expression a mix of disbelief and confusion. "You're telling me," he started slowly, "that you've never had a real _Christmas celebration?_" The young warlock shook his head. "I'm finding that hard to believe."

The blond prince simply scowled at Merlin. Then, he muttered, "You know what? Forget I said anything." He quickly turned to the fire at the center of the room, not bothering to look back up at Merlin. The warlock only frowned at Arthur – did he offend him? Merlin hadn't meant to sound rude, really, but _how _could _Arthur _of all people not know what a real Christmas celebration looked like? After all, Arthur had always been complaining about numerous banquets and dinners that his father would be holding in the festivities of Christmas…

But it wasn't until today, when Arthur grudgingly agreed to go with Merlin to his village did the prince say something about what he really thought of Christmas celebrations. It was odd, too – there really wasn't anything extravagant in what the villagers did to celebrate Christmas here. There were always pine boughs decorated around the houses, and perhaps a few candles lit outside, but Merlin had thought that those festivities would look silly in Arthur's eyes.

_Or_, Merlin thought as he watched Arthur, _maybe not_.

"I didn't mean anything by it," Merlin said at last. He gestured to outside, where a few villagers were greeting each other happily underneath the decorations. "It's just…I thought that with everything going on in Camelot and all, you would have at least had _some _form of celebration."

Arthur let out a small scoffing sound. He turned to Merlin, replying, "To be honest, Merlin, there's nothing to special about what things my father has to offer for Christmas." The prince poked at the fire with a stick – and then added, "You take a look around the castle – there aren't any real decorations. There aren't any actual people _talking _to each other about Christmas. It's just an evening meal filled with people trying to impress each other in the most pathetic ways possible." Arthur shook his head. "I actually got used to it as a child," he murmured. "And I thought that was normal – but looking at what _you _do…" There was something else in Arthur's voice as those words were uttered – something that made Merlin startle, because it was something he was not accustomed to hearing from the prince.

_Jealousy. _

"It seems…different." Arthur finished halfheartedly. "Pleasant. Simple."

The corner of Merlin's lips quirked upwards. "You wouldn't really like it," he replied.

"How would you know?" Arthur countered.

Merlin paused. Then, with what the warlock hoped would be a winning smile, he replied, "Because you're a prat." To his credit, Arthur managed a laugh at that. "Forgot who I was talking to," the prince said, nodding at Merlin. The raven-haired youth shrugged his shoulders, smile still on face.

However, as the laughter between them settled down to only the occasional chuckle, Merlin finally said, "We could go outside, you know." When Arthur turned to face him, Merlin went on, "Show you around – maybe you can get a real sense of Christmas celebrations here." Biting on the inside of his cheek, he continued slowly, "I mean…I can't promise it'll be quite as grand or as spectacular as what other people might have, but –"

"_Merlin_," Arthur interrupted, causing the warlock to come to an abrupt stop. Wide, grey-blue eyes blinking, Merlin cast an uncertain glance at the prince. There was a moment of silence between them – until a small grin started to bloom on Arthur's face. "I think that'd be alright," he said quietly.

Merlin smiled back. "Right then, you big prat," he replied, standing to his feet. Extending his hand, he added happily, "Let me show you around."

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><p><strong>AN - As always, it'd be nice if you all reviewed! Don't make me beg, please! **

**Constructive criticism is tolerated, but flames are not.**


	9. Responsibility

**Another drabble-length thingie. Happy reading! **

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><p><em>Responsibility <em>

"I thought you told me you didn't like sledding?" Merlin grunted as he struggled to follow Arthur up the snow-covered hill. The prince turned around, a wide smile on his face "I _don't_," he said cheerfully, "but that's only with Morgana. She used my shield as a sled when we were kids, did you know that?"

"Well, now I do," Merlin muttered. He hurried forward, adding, "But I thought you were supposed to be –"

"Do you _want _more work, Merlin?" Arthur asked, waving away Merlin's comments. "Just one hour to ourselves – as long as _you _don't say anything, I'll be just fine." The warlock stared after the prince, asking, "Who are you, and what have you done with Arthur Pendragon?"

"Ha, ha," Arthur countered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He gestured down the hill. "Is there something wrong with me wanting to have some free time?"

Merlin grinned. "_No_," he replied, "but it's just…you're usually all about _responsibilities _and _schedules _and you would always go down my throat if I was even a _few seconds _late…"

"Yes, well, today I'm feeling a bit rebellious, Merlin – I think I'm allowed to be that for today," Arthur responded. Then, he settled the sled at the top of the hill. "Now, stop standing there! We've got much to do!"

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><p><strong>AN - Because Arthur is a little kid inside - at least, around the holiday season. XP **

**Reviews would be great! Constructive criticism is tolerated, but flames are not.**


	10. Baking of Sorts

**...the anniversary of Arthur's death is upon us. Just. Let. Me. Die. Here. **

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><p><em>Baking of Sorts<em>

"Guine_vere_," Arthur Pendragon said, watching his wife bustle around the kitchen. "You don't need to work – you can –"

"No, no, no," Guinevere replied, hurrying across the room. She tugged out a few bowls with one hand and with another, sorted through the cupboards for ingredients. "I wouldn't know _what _to do if I left all the maidservants to do all the cooking _for _us." She looked up at Arthur and staring at him in the eye, added, "And to be honest, Arthur, I would like to help out once in a while. Just because I'm made Queen doesn't mean I'm suddenly too superior to get some work done."

Arthur blinked. He stared down at Guinevere's hands – which were still moving, even while she was talking – and looked back up. Then, after a pause, he asked, "How can I help?"

Guinevere's face lit up with a smile. "Really?" she asked happily. "You would –" She broke herself off with a laugh. Shaking her head, she added, "Don't get me wrong, Arthur – but are you sure you would know what you're doing when you're in the kitchen…?"

Arthur puffed out his chest, replying proudly, "I can do many things – I'm sure baking will just be added to the list."

His wife grinned and tapping his chest lightly with a finger, said, "Well, then – we better get started."

xXx

_"…you're going to have to give me an explanation for this one," _Merlin said, eyes wide as Arthur barreled into the royal chambers with flour-caked clothes. Arthur puffed out a breath, revealing a bit of white flour. "I tried baking," was his only comment. Then, he muttered, "I think I'm going to need to wash this off."

Merlin snorted. "Obviously," he replied, and in that moment, Guinevere came walking into the room. She looked as equally amused as Merlin felt. "I'm sorry, Merlin," she said to her friend. "I know this is going to be an awful mess to clean up afterwards."

"It's fine," the warlock replied and then, shooting a furtive glance at Arthur, asked, "But _really _though – was he _trying _to bake? Or did he just…throw some flour over himself and try to look impressive?"

Guinevere paused. Letting out a soft laugh, she simply replied, "_Yes_."

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><p><strong>AN - Arthur honey, as much as you wanna impress Gwen, just...don't. Not with baking, at least. XD **

**Reviews would be great! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not.**


	11. Return

**Two years ago, the ****_Merlin _****fandom entered a period of utter grief and despair for their beloved children. Otherwise known as Merlin and Arthur and everyone else who experienced suffering and pain in the show. *screams into a pillow* I CAN'T HOLD ALL THESE FEELS; GOODBYE, FRIENDS, I AM GONE. **

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><p><em>Return<em>

It was Christmas Eve when Arthur Pendragon returned.

And Merlin was there to see it all happen.

Just as he had watched his king float towards Avalon on a boat, he watched Arthur float back on a humble-looking craft. That alone was enough to force Merlin out of his stupor in seeing such movement in the lake for the first time in hundreds – no, _thousands _of years. Sprinting into the water, he screamed his friend's name over and over and over again. Tears were springing into his eyes; his heart was practically pounding out of his chest – but such would be expected of him to see his king again.

"Arthur!" Merlin grabbed the edge of the boat and dragging it to shore, allowed one of his hands to cling to Arthur's arm. "Oh, my God – _Arthur!_"

At that, the blue-eyed man's snapped open. Arthur sat up and for the first few minutes, he stared round in a bewildered, confused silence – and then, once he caught sight of Merlin, it was as if a bright light had turned on in a dark room.

"_Merlin," _Arthur gasped, reaching over to grab the warlock. Feeling a fresh renewal of tears, Merlin flung himself into Arthur's awaiting arms. "You're back," he choked out, clutching onto Arthur's cape. "_Finally_." He could feel Arthur give a shuddering, deep breath – and then a hand tenderly holding onto the back of Merlin's jacket.

"I'm back," Arthur confirmed, sounding just as relieved and breathless as Merlin felt. "Back at last."

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><p><strong>AN - Yeah. Basically it. I'm dead. RIP me, someone prepare my funeral. I died by Colin Morgan and Bradley James' last scene in the season five finale. **

**Reviews are always welcome! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not - don't be a Grinch! Merry Christmas Eve! (...and let's all cry together.)**


	12. Gathered

**Merry Christmas, everyone! **

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><p><em>Gathered <em>

The first Christmas after everyone came back was the start of many.

They didn't even make it an official tradition – it just happened.

After multiple failed tries in the kitchen, Guinevere got the turkey done and set Arthur and Merlin to work on doing the table-setting – and Morgana, who had decided that it was time to change her ways once and for all, was to make sure that the men won't get anything done incorrectly. (Even after thousands of years in modern civilization, both Morgana and Guinevere learned that Merlin was always getting distracted from doing his chores.) Gwaine, Percival, Leon, Lancelot, and Elyan had taken up on playing sports outside – throwing a ball amongst themselves and occasionally trying to trip someone with a foot. (Though Lancelot was the only one who actually came in to help.)

In other words, this was the most cheerful and peaceful Christmas that anyone had ever had in a long time.

"_Mer_lin, you're not supposed to put the spoon there! It's on the _right _side, not the _left _side." Arthur said indignantly, shaking his head. Merlin snorted and turning to face the king, asked, "And I suppose you would know, yeah? Because you _obviously _know how to set…" He looked down at the mats that Arthur had set up and after a moment of silence, he said, "_Arthur. The forks are upside-down. Why are they upside-down?_"

Arthur flushed and then, putting the utensils he was holding down on the table, scoffed, "D'you think you can do this better than me? Because by all means, I'd like to see you try."

"_Boys_," Guinevere and Morgana called warningly in unison. Merlin and Arthur faltered and shooting the ladies guilty looks, quickly went back to work – but neither man was afraid to give the other a solid kick. But that was all playful manner, to be honest – and everyone knew it.

Meanwhile, the back door flung open with a loud _bang_, signaling the arrival of the knights. There was a clatter of plates from the kitchen – and then a loud, "_Gwaine!_" from Guinevere. Moments later, Gwaine burst into the dining room, apple in mouth and cheerful sparks in his eyes. "Hello, boys," he said through his bite of apple, and sprinted out of the room, for Morgana had already decided to follow him with a wooden spoon.

Merlin and Arthur exchanged eye-rolls as loud bangs echoed from the sitting room – and then, a small pig suddenly trotted into the dining room, apple still in its mouth.

"You turned Gwaine into a pig _again?_" Arthur asked, exasperated. Morgana shrugged her shoulders and twirling her spoon around her fingers, replied innocently, "He was asking for it. Besides, what else was I supposed to turn him into?"

"You weren't supposed to turn him into anything _at all_," Merlin groaned and ducked down to the Gwaine-pig, already murmuring a spell to counter the enchantment.

"Do I hear _trouble _in there?" Guinevere asked from the kitchen. "It _is _Christmas, you know – and I would rather not clean up after anyone at the moment!"

Everyone startled at that – with equally sheepish grimaces, everyone shouted back, "_Nothing's wrong!_"

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><p><strong>AN - Because they deserve a happy ending. **

**Reviews are always welcome - constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not - don't be a Grinch! **


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